


All that's left

by Sagnfreidi



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, If you feel this is very relatable, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, PLEASE TALK TO SOMEONE!, Sadness, Suicide, The ending isn't entirely sad though, This is super sad and depressing, Tragedy, i'm so sorry about this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 01:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14906066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sagnfreidi/pseuds/Sagnfreidi
Summary: Bones and Jim get together, and just when it seems like everything will work out, tragedy strikes. Jim is left to deal with the loss of his best friend and fiance, only he doesn't know how.





	All that's left

**Author's Note:**

> REALLY REALLY IMPORTANT WARNING!!!  
> This story has suicide ideation in it, and there is a suicide, and it isn't described as a bad thing, because it's entirely the suicidal person's POV.  
> If you know someone who's committed suicide, this might be painful to read, so please take care of yourself and turn back now.  
> If you're struggling with suicidal thoughts, please consider that while suicide might end your problems, it also removes the possibility of things getting better. And also that there are people out here in the world willing to both listen and help, if only you reach out.

They had been dancing around their mutual attraction for so long, throwing taunts and innuendos at each other but never acting on it, because at the end of the day they were all either of them had and they couldn’t risk it. But it got frustrating, holding back from something that Jim had a feeling should be natural between them.

So when Bones wryly had pointed out how Jim was all words and no action, Jim had _acted_. And it was everything he had ever imagined and then so much more, because Bones was real and firm against him, he had a taste to go with the honey-and-bourbon scent, and the scratch of his stubble against Jim’s chin was a massive turn-on.

It was thrilling and nerve wrecking, allowing himself to touch. It felt forbidden, even though Bones moaned and looked at him with hooded eyes that clearly welcomed the touch and the skin against skin as the shirts became casualties in their frenzied coming together. The reasons for keeping apart were rapidly forgotten in the assault of warm lips and tongue. Jim was pulled closer by equally greedy hands, strong and certain as they dug into him, kneading muscle and scraping against his skin.

“Bones…” Jim whispered, almost reverently as Bones opened the fly of Jim’s pants and pushed them down along with his briefs, freeing his erection. Jim stepped out of the pants pooling around his ankles and then moved out of Bones’ grasp, walking over and lying down on the bed. He looked on hungrily as the older man stripped down too and then got to the bed as well, straddling him and leaning down to kiss. Jim got steadily lost in the sensation of having Bones everywhere.

In the morning they’d probably talk themselves out of it again, call it something like friends with benefits, and Jim would accept it because he’d take whatever he could get. And for now this was enough: Bones’ strong arms and warm mouth and the delicious sensation of being stretched and filled by the most important person in his life.

  


* * *

  

Jim watched his best friend intently as the doctor read on his padd. The doctor shot him an annoyed look.

“Quit staring, would ya?” He demanded and Jim smiled, a strange private smile.

“Is it weird if I want to touch you?” Jim asked, taking the other man by surprise.

“What do you call what we do at night if that’s not touching?” He asked gruffly, clearly embarrassed by Jim’s question.

“That’s not what I mean.” Jim said dismissively.

“Then what do you mean?” Bones asked warily. Jim smiled that same private smile again. No, not private. Shy and gentle, longing and tentative. Nothing like the Kirk patented winning smile.

“Like this.” Jim said, raising his hand slowly, clearly telegraphing his movements to allow Bones to avoid his touch. Bones remained still, barely breathing as Jim's hand curled around the side of his face. A slight shiver ran through him when Jim’s thumb stroke his bottom lip gently. Bones eyes fell shut as he seemed to give in to the simple touch. Jim couldn't help but lean closer, reveling in the beauty and trust of the other man. Bones eyes opened, hazel locking with blue, and Jim felt his chest constrict almost painfully under the strain of his feelings. Jim started pulling his hand back, suddenly self-conscious. Bones’ own hand shot up, resting atop of Jim’s and keeping it against his face.

“Don’t stop.” Bones whispered, hoarse and thick. Jim smiled, real giddy happiness reflecting in his features

“Alright. I won't.” He answered softly and Bones answered his smile.

  


* * *

  

They lay entangled in each other on Bones’ narrow bed in his quarters. Bones often complained that they should use the larger bed in the Captain’s quarters, but they never did.  At this point the Captain’s quarters were more of a storage room for all that Jim used it, although even his belongings had most of them found their way to the doctor’s quarters. And while Bones grumbled, he never really objected to how Jim practically entwined their bodies to fit into the narrow space when they went to sleep.

Jim took that as encouragement to continue the practice. And lying snuggled into the other man brought a sense of safety, peace and belonging that he didn't find anywhere else, especially after a bad day.

This had been a bad day. And they both felt responsible. But as always, it was easier to bear the burdens of lost lives when they had each other. Jim’s hand was drawing idle patterns on Bones’ stomach, neither asleep as they mulled over the events of the day.

“I love you.” Jim broke the silence. He wasn't sure why that was what came out, but it felt appropriate, somehow. Bones didn't immediately respond. For a moment Jim wondered if Bones was going to acknowledge to the words at all, or if it had been too much. They never talked about what they had together, they just were. Finally Bones sighed.

“Yeah. I love you too.” He said and Jim smiled into the crook of Bones neck. Neither said anything further and after a while, Jim fell asleep, feeling content in spite of the gruesome day.

  


* * *

  

Jim had a smile plastered to his face though no one was there to see it other than the shopkeeper who was mindful of him but not intrusive. Several trays were laid out on the counter, and ring after ring was placed in neat rows on them.

Jim had no idea what he was looking for, and at the same time, he knew just what he wanted. He wanted simple and discrete, there but never in the way and not attracting attention, just like relationship they had shared these past six years.

His eyes caught by a narrow golden band. It didn't shine or glitter, the surface being unpolished from the mold. He picked it up and ran a finger over the surface. It felt ruffled under his fingertips, but it wasn’t gruff, it only looked it. The inside of the ring was soft to touch and shone. _Just like my Bones_ , Jim thought with a smile _._ Jim looked up at the shopkeeper, who came over.

“You made you choice, sir?” The Andorian asked.

“Yes. This one.” Jim answered, handing over the ring.

“A good choice, if I may say so, sir.” The man said politely. Jim laughed.

“He is.” Jim answered and the Andorian smiled faintly, giving him the small box with the ring.

“Here you are. And good luck.” He said and Jim smiled and nodded before he left the shop, the small box heavy in his pocket.

  


* * *

  

Sickbay had never been Jim’s favorite place on the Enterprise. In fact its only redeeming quality was Bones, and he’d much rather have Bones any other place. Jim never liked spending time in sickbay, whether it was tied to a bed as a patient or visiting crew members who had gotten beaten up on one of his missions.

But he had never hated sickbay quite the way he did now, had never associated it with quite this kind of dread before.

He paced the floor outside the surgery room, driving everyone crazy, he knew, but he couldn't stop. Because if he stopped and sat down it would catch up with him. That lying on the table in there, undergoing emergency surgery, his life hanging in a thread, was _Bones_.

His Bones, who should have been the one performing the surgery, not the one receiving it. His Bones who had been tortured on a mission he shouldn't even have been on, God, what had he been thinking when he allowed Bones down there with them? Jim felt sick and kept his mouth shut. If he opened it he would either start screaming or throw up, he wasn't sure which.

He just knew that fear was clawing at him like a wild animal, and he wanted, needed, Bones to hold him and tell him that it was alright, that he was going to be okay. But Bones couldn't, maybe never would again, and Jim was slowly losing it. He was so distracted that he didn't notice the nurse approaching him until the hypo hit his neck and he succumbed to the sedative.

  


* * *

  

Jim woke slowly, aware of where he was before he was sure why. Nothing hurt, which was unusual to say the least when waking up in sickbay. He opened his eyes, but Bones wasn't there to explain what was going on like he usually was.  Then it all came back to him. And suddenly everything hurt and panic and adrenaline send him to his feet. Nurse Chapel was approaching him, her hands raised appeasingly, but Jim was more interested in her face: pale and tired, stress lines carved into her skin, conspiring to make her seem older.

“Bones.” It was a question and a demand wrapped in one and she nodded, understanding.

“Out of surgery two hours ago.” She said. That was good, wasn't it? Then why did she look so resigned?

“Where is he?” Jim demanded, scanning the medbay, uneasy when he couldn't see him.

“In a private room.” She said and Jim nodded, immediately heading towards the door in the back of the medbay, but Chapel rushed forward, stopping him by hold a hand in front of him.

“You can’t go in there, Captain. He’s still in critical condition. I’m sorry.” She said and Jim stared at her like she'd lost her mind.

“Just wait here and I’ll get doctor M’Benga, alright? He can explain.” She said and Jim nodded, feeling lost and disoriented. What did it mean that he couldn't even go in and sit next to Bones? He kept still where he was in the middle of the room and waited for answers.

  


* * *

  

Jim stood at the window and looked into the room. It was wrong. Bones should not be looking like that, pale, unresponsive, face slack in unconsciousness. Jim could never mistake it for Bones being asleep. Bones was expressive and present even when he slept. This was different.

If there hadn't been readings on the monitors and the faint rise and fall of his chest, Bones might as well have been dead. And his chest only did move due to the tube running down his throat. It was all wrong. The stillness of his Bones, the distance between them, the glass separating them. If nothing else, Jim should be in there, holding Bones’ hand the way Bones did every time it was Jim recovering from surgery.

Was this what Bones felt every time Jim almost died? If it was, Jim was never going to berate Bones for yelling at him when he woke up again. Jim wanted to yell at Bones for doing this too. But most of all he wanted Bones to wake up, to haul him close and never _ever_ let him go again. Jim's hands curled into fists, and he closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the glass, fighting a losing battle against the tears.

  


* * *

  

Strong hands were forcing him away as M’Benga and the nurses rushed into the small room. Jim struggled futilely against the hands, uncaring who they belong to or whether he was in the way.

The alarm from the monitor and rushing blood in his ears were the only sounds that made it past the haze, and Jim was desperate and angry and so _so_ afraid as he was pulled out of the room, helplessly watching M’Benga shouting orders to the nurses, the line still _flat_ , and Bones’ head rolled limply to the side, and Jim might have been yelling Bones’ name, he wasn't sure.

He wanted to tear the universe apart piece by piece until it gave him back what he wanted, but the only motion on the monitors were the spikes every time the nurses applied the defibrillator, and then it went back to flat.

Jim had no idea how long it continued, it could be hours or seconds, but he was sobbing long before it was over.

When M’Benga told the nurses to stop attempting resuscitation and to turn off the howling monitors, Jim wanted to run in there and force them to continue. But his body wasn’t responding, so he just stood there, listening as M’Benga proclaimed the time of death.

There was a heaviness settling inside of him. _This isn’t real. It can’t be._ Jim’s thoughts lost coherency and then darkness claimed him as he passed out.

  


* * *

  

Jim sat at the desk in his ready room, staring at the padd, feeling the numbness that had come to be his constant companion welling up inside of him.

_To miss Joanna McCoy_

_I regret to inform you that Lt. Cmd. Leonard Horatio McCoy, serial number 2255-0935-386, CMO of the USS Enterprise NCC-1701 has fallen in line of duty._

The words were impersonal, standard. A formula that captains all over Starfleet used to distance themselves from the terrible failures that lead to the end of a life. Right then the words were mocking Jim. They were all wrong.

Wrong because there was no distance, wrong because this wasn't just a rank and a serial number, this was _Bones_. His best friend and better half. The man he was going to marry.

What was left without Bones? Jim thought of his mother, realizing for the first time just what kind of hell losing his father had been for her. Was it strength that had allowed her to live on? Or had it been apathy? Just moving along and passive-aggressively seeking out revenge and death by distancing herself from Jim and hoping that the next mission would be the last?

Jim knew that space couldn't have held any meaning for her, because it didn't for him now. Everyone thought that Jim belonged amongst the stars, as captain of a starship. Truth was that he was just comfortable in space and good at being a captain. He _belonged_ with Bones.

It had been foolishness, Jim decided, to follow dreams of flying amongst the stars when the only one he truly wanted, needed, couldn't live without, had never wanted to go there, had only gone to humor Jim, and now he was dead because of it. It had been arrogance and foolhardiness and now Bones, beautiful, caring, sarcastic Bones, was _gone._

And Jim was left behind again, thinking that the pain would do him a kindness by killing him.

 

* * *

 

Jim stood next to the open bag, looking at the corpse on display. _That’s not my Bones_ , Jim thought morosely. The still body looked exactly like the love of his life. But there was no color in his waxen skin, no movement in his limbs, no presence behind his closed eyes. Jim thought back to the last time those eyes had looked at him. Frightened but strong, so certain that Jim would get him out of there. Jim had failed, betrayed Bones’ trust.

He should have been faster, he should have understood the situation sooner, he should have never allowed Bones to go with them.

Jim had failed so completely as a captain it didn’t bear mentioning. And Bones had paid the price, dying in agony. His daughter was left with nothing but an impersonal note and a couple of medals in stead of the living, breathing, amazing, loving father she should have had. Jim was left with the bitter knowledge that he’d lost the man that was his whole world and it was his own fault.

Jim looked at the corpse of the best man he had ever known and knew, with absolute certainty, that there was nothing left for him in this universe, because while he could survive this loss, he couldn't become alive again. Jim was as much a corpse as the one in front of him, the world just hadn't realized yet.

He reached out hesitantly, cupping Bones’ still, cold face and ran a thumb over the lips he’d kissed so many times. This would be the last time he saw Bones in this world. Then he retrieved his hand and turned away, nodding to M’Benga who had respectfully kept his distance while Jim said his goodbyes.

As Jim was about to walk past him, M’Benga stopped him by raising a hand and then he wordlessly handed over a small, clear plastic bag. Jim looked at the golden ring inside the bag, fighting to breathe normally for sheer pain. He nodded to M’Benga again and then he fled, clutching the ring tightly enough for the edges to bite into his skin even through the bag.

  


* * *

  

Jim took the time to ask everyone on the command crew for their plans for the shore leave, to inquire about their families and extending his well wishes to them. The crew seemed happy that he was asking, laughing brightly at the jokes he offered and clinging to the smiles.

When everyone but the mandatory skeleton crew had beamed down, Jim walked through the corridors of the place that had been his and Bones’ home for so many years already. He ended where he knew he would have to go. Their rooms.

When the doors opened he was for a moment overwhelmed by the familiar scent of his home, a scent that was as much Bones as it was him. Everything was exactly as they had left it that morning before everything turned to hell.

Jim stood in the middle of the room, looking around and just remembering. The little souvenirs from some of the places they'd visited. Bones’ medical books. The holos of them. Jim’s breath caught in his throat, looking at them. He took one down, hands trembling as he looked at Bones’ face, happy and alive. The force of the pain that surged through Jim was enough to bring him to his knees, all the feelings that he’d been trying to suppress until he had his crew someplace safe took over.

He _missed_ Bones, missed him worse than he’d missed food or safety on Tarsus, missed him more than he knew how to keep inside of him, and he was crying, sobs that closed his airways tighter than an allergic reaction could, making him choke, and still the only thing he felt was the terrible pain of being alone.

When finally his tears abated, all he was left with was this awful, cold feeling of pointlessness. He sat still on the floor for another couple of minutes before he got up and gathered the things he needed.

Then he left their quarters and walked down the hallways one last time, hand trailing lightly against the aluminum walls. He smiled at the ensign manning the transporter as he gave the order to energize.

 

* * *

 

The room Jim had been assigned at Starbase 5 was large and bland, and another time he’d have complained about that and then laughed as he was told that at least it was a decent size bed. Now he just sat his bag on the bed and hang his jacket by the door before returning to the bed.

Jim didn't make a big production out of it or drag things out. He knew what he was here to do, and waiting only added to the pain. He took out the holo of him and Bones he’d gotten from their room and placed it on the bedside table, and then he dug out Bones’ ring from his pocket.

The weight of the gold was a poor replacement for the warm skin he wished he could hold.

He sighed and reached into the bag for one last thing. There was a certain kind of irony in ending his life with a hypospray that Jim appreciated. He shifted it in his grip so he could inject it into his neck. He’d never have thought that he would miss Bones’ mad hypo skills.

He squeezed the injection trigger, the sting reminding him of so many moments in his life, some bad, some humorous but always bearable because Bones had been there. There was nothing bearable about life without him.

Jim placed the hypo next to the holo and lay down to wait for the drugs to set in. It didn't take long for him to feel drowsy, but he kept his eyes open and peeled on Bones’ face on the holo, smiling at him. It was strangely peaceful to look at it now, knowing as he did that he wouldn't have to suffer through the pain much longer.

Jim wasn't sure he believed in an afterlife, but he hoped. Hoped that he would get to be with Bones soon. Hoped that Bones would only yell at him a little bit for killing himself. Hoped that in the next world, nothing would separate them ever again. So when Jim could no longer focus his eyes on Bones’ handsome features, he didn't struggle like he had his whole life. He just let go and relaxed into death, hopeful.


End file.
